


one man's trash is another man's treasure

by buffylovesfaith



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bars and Pubs, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Post-Series, faith and spike talk in a bar, fem!spike, mentions of buffy/faith buffy/spike and spike/angel, you might spot some minor lines of dialogue used from the show and comics in a new way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 11:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11080233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffylovesfaith/pseuds/buffylovesfaith
Summary: "Who do you like better, blondes or brunettes?"Faith and Spike talk in a bar.Spike is a woman in this story, because I'm gay and I like it better that way.





	one man's trash is another man's treasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nowrunalong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowrunalong/gifts).



> For Lydia :) happy Femslash Week, and thank you for inspiring me to write some fem!Spike! This is kind of a late entry for the AU day. It's also hastily written, but hopefully not horrible?
> 
> Again, Spike is a woman here.

The bell that was hung above the entry door to Lucky Jack’s Pub chimed as Faith took a step down into the sunken, smoky bar, ignoring the startled looks she received as she walked in covered in some unnamed demon’s fast drying (and therefore, hardening) gunk.

“Jack and coke. ‘N make it a double,” she grunted at the bartender as she stiffly sat on the hard, red bar stool and let her short sword clatter to the dirty floor. 

She had been drinking in peace for several minutes before she noticed the only other solo drinker at the counter. The woman was sitting on the very last bar stool and was obviously drowning some sort of sorrow, or whatever the fuck the phrase was; her head hung down over several empty shot glasses, and she wiped what looked suspiciously like a tear off of her high cheekbone. She had long, bleached hair, white and almost crunchy looking, a silver nose ring, and a ridiculously long leather jacket that made Faith feel like a member of the leather-jacket-wearing-losers club by association, even though Faith’s was actually cool. Spike.

“Spike!” Faith exclaimed in surprise before she could stop herself, and then cringed. She didn’t particularly want to talk to her right now. Or ever. 

But the blonde looked up with a frown, so she continued. “Uh, hey. I, uh...didn’t expect you to be here. Long time no see.”

Spike’s ivory skin colored slightly when she recognized Faith, and she sniffled, scoffed, and cleared her throat. “Obviously I didn’t either.”

Faith pursed her lips as she took another drink. She wondered if she should just turn back toward the counter and cut this awkward conversation off before it could even begin. Or maybe she should just leave. But she saw another small tear make it’s way down Spike’s cheek before she could catch it, and decided to stick around, at least for a minute. Talking to Spike couldn’t be _that_ bad, right?

“So...are you okay?”

Spike set her last shot glass down with a _clank_. “Do I bloody look okay?!” She swung around and glared at Faith, baring her teeth a little.

“Guess not,” Faith said and she turned back towards her drink. _So much for being nice._

“I swear, it’s times like these I wish I could go back to drainin’ humans a’ their blood and spittin’ out the bones. You’re all bloody tossers!”

“That’s great, Spike. Are you forgetting who you’re talking to here?”

“No, no. Miss Moral Correctness, I’m aware.”

“Good.” Faith finished her drink, and was just about to collect her sword and jacket and head out the door when she heard a sob coming from the blonde woman.

“ _I’m just so unhappy. An’ lonely_ ,” Spike hiccuped in between howls. “ _I-I mean, look at me. I’m bloody hot. I shouldn’t be a-aloooone_.” Okay, never mind. Talking to Spike was that bad. 

“Oh my God, Spike.” Faith rolled her eyes. “Just come sit over here.”

Spike frowned petulantly, but she slunk over and sat on the stool next to Faith’s.

“Alright. So what’s got you cryin’ your eyes out?”

Spike shook her head.

“Tell me.” Faith demanded. “Or I won’t hear the end of it all night. And I was actually hoping to have a relaxing night, y’know, have a few drinks, kick back, so I can forget the shit storm that was my day. So spit it out.”

“S’Buffy.” Spike spoke quietly from behind a paper napkin as she blew her nose.

“ _Buffy_? Jesus, you still thinkin’ about her? It’s been years.” _Hypocrite_ , her mind spoke up.

“ _So?_ I’m the kind a’ lady whose love never dies… I’m very loyal that way. I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.” She paused when Faith frowned murderously. “Alright, sorry luv. Don’t go gettin’ all uppity.” She continued when Faith had relaxed some. “Anyway...sometimes I just like to...come here and think about Buffy and be sad. Have a good cry, maybe. _Usually_ nobody’s around.”

Faith shook her head. “Wait, let me get this straight...you _try_ to get yourself to cry? On purpose?”

“You know what, I don’ even know why I’m tryin’ to have a chat with you! You--You don’t understand! Buffy was my soulmate.”

Faith clenched her jaw. “Right.”

Spike paused for a minute, studying Faith’s face. She started again, more softly. “I mean...I thought she was. I don’ bloody know anymore. But it’s been five years since we broke up, and I still think about her.”

Faith just nodded.

Spike signalled to the bartender for another round. 

“So...you still working with Mr. Ooh-I’m-So-Sexy-And-Broody-And-The-Girls-Love-Me-And-I-Got-Buffy-First?”

One half of Faith’s face broke into a smirk. “Yup. And you know I still think you’re hot for him. Calling him “sexy” isn’t really helping your case here.”

Spike scoffed. “Bloody right! As if I would ever go for that wanker. I could barely stand him even back in the day, even when--” she glanced at Faith. “Uh, never mind. But what about you two? Sure you’re not bonin’? A little business-casual,” she raised an eyebrow, “if you know what I mean?”

“Nah,” Faith shook her head. “We’re just friends. Good friends, but that’s it.”

Spike just smirked and tossed back her fresh shot. She offered one to Faith, who accepted, and they fell to watching the game for a few minutes. 

Suddenly Spike sat up, seemingly in a much better mood. “So, Faith. Let’s play a little game a’ truth. Who do you like better, blondes or brunettes?”

Faith raised her eyebrows. “I think you know.”

Spike grinned. “I think I do. But, for the purpose a’ this game, what’s your answer?”

“Blondes.” Faith knocked back another shot.

Spike leaned forward so that her slight cleavage could be seen over the top of her ripped black tank top. “ _I’m_ blonde.”

“Fake blonde.” Faith waved her hand dismissively. 

Spike scoffed. “Oh luv, so was Buffy. Don’t mean to dash any fantasies, but we’ve been up close an’ personal a number of times. I’ve seen the roots.”

“Whatever. I don’t sleep with any of Buffy’s lovers.” She paused. “Anymore.”

Spike narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Technically an ex-lover. An’ I take back what I said before. We’re quite alike, me an’ you.” She started speaking in a whisper. “We both want that love, that... _fantasy_ love. A deep bond that last forever, an’ they’re there for you, no matter your flaws. And you have permission to touch ‘em an’ hold ‘em an’ worship ‘em. But it ain’t happenin’, is it?”

Faith looked into Spike’s icy blue eyes, rimmed with smudgy black eyeliner, made soft from the tears. The eyes, the hair, everything that drove her crazy, it was all there. But harder, twisted, pushed through a filter of leather and cigarette smoke to come out with something more similar in appearance to Faith herself, in a way that Faith loved and hated. She found her voice. “No.”

Spike nodded. “That’s what I thought. But maybe two rejects is what it takes to make it right?”

*

A few minutes later, and Faith was throwing down some bills to pay for their drinks, and following Spike out the door, down the street, and to her apartment.

What the hell. She had always had a weakness for blondes.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought!


End file.
